


Beat Me Up

by GracefulVengeance



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alcohol, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Mild Painplay, Mildly Dubious Consent, Painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 19:11:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11880972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GracefulVengeance/pseuds/GracefulVengeance
Summary: "I just wanna spend some time with you, or you could beat me up."When Seth is in the ring, he feels indestructible, like a young god realizing his untapped power. That is, until he meets Dean Ambrose, who reduces him to an utter mess with any physical contact. Now Seth has to struggle with satiating his appetite for pain, which Dean is happy to deal out at every opportunity.





	Beat Me Up

The first time Dean hits Seth it’s like an epiphany, a revelation that brings him to place that he didn’t even know existed. Not back to any version of “reality”, but to a place where only the two of them mattered. Each punch, each kick, each strike to his flesh was like a song being composed for him and him alone. The first time Seth tastes blood, spits it onto the mat in a spatter of bright red, he feels a small prickle of arousal in his lower belly that morphs into a shudder that slithers up his back. Panic is what settles in then, panic and confusion and this dire need to ask for more, to plead for it. Is it just because Dean is hot? No way, Seth’s wrestled plenty of men he found attractive. Or was it the _way_ Dean hit him? Seth then begins to wonder if Dean enjoys it as much as he does. He looks up at Dean who flashes him a wolfish grin, a grin that Seth would enjoy aggressively kissing away, and figures this _can’t_ be one-sided. It’s too strange and beneficial and downright sensual. This was something he’d never experienced before, a completely different animal, this was Dean Fucking Ambrose.

 

He decided to test out his theory outside of the ring. He wanted to see just how far Dean was willing to take this, and frankly he wanted to know how far he’d go himself. Finding out he got off to being hit by Dean was a tough realization to wrestle with.

 

The first time they go out to a bar Seth is a nervous fucking wreck. He hopes that enough alcohol will give him a spine. When they enter the bar, Seth shuffles along behind Dean, his eyes scanning up and down Dean’s form. The way his jeans cling to his long legs and hug along the curve of his ass is tantalizing. Seth’s seen Dean in nothing but briefs and knee-high boots in the ring sure, but there was something about the way his clothes fit him right now that was just perfect. His gaze moved to Dean’s hands, little purple and green bruises decorated his knuckles, and Seth suddenly felt the urge to kiss them. Kisses parading as silent “thank you’s” for what they’ve done, and to ask for more in kind.

 

Dean leaned up against the bar, turning to look at Seth with a quirked eyebrow. “First round’s on me, wuddya want?”

 

“A shot. Of anything, really,” Seth pauses, his nerves getting to him more and more. _C’mon Rollins, pull it together_. “your choice.”

 

Dean chuckles and asks the bartender for two shots of whiskey, one of which he slides over to Seth.

 

“Cheers,” he grins, tipping the shot back with ease.

 

Seth nods and does the same, the sharp burn of the alcohol sending shivers up his spine. He almost gags, but manages keeps it together. He can feel the warmth in the pit of his belly and with that the compulsion to get another shot, he really needed to loosen up. He shuffled up to the bar, picked up two shots of tequila and handed one to Dean. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, like he was impressed that this little nerd would go for tequila. Seth didn’t know a better drink than that to help him throw his inhibitions out the window.

 

\----

 

“Seth I swear to christ if you don’t _shut the fuck up_ I’m going to-”

 

“What? You gonna _hit me_?” Seth blurted out.

 

They were walking back from the bar, far too drunk to drive, and Seth could not shut his mouth to save his goddamn life. This was exactly what he wanted though, to see how far he could push Dean before he did what he wanted. This time no holds barred, no ring, no crowd, just the two of them.

 

“Do it,” he teased, his words slurred and messy. “ _Make me_ shut up.”

 

Dean stopped walking and whirled around, his expression that of annoyance and a little bit of curiosity. He stared Seth directly in the eyes, searching for any hint that he was just being a belligerent drunk. Seth felt a shiver crawl up his spine as Dean’s blue eyes bored into his. Dean sees the way Seth carries himself now, completely different from when they’re in the ring. He’s more vulnerable here, his confidence betrayed by alcohol. Dean still wasn’t sure if Seth was being an idiot, or if he was serious. He charged at Seth, grabbing him by the collar of his stupid band t shirt and pressing him up against the nearest wall, his fist cocked back and aimed for Seth’s jaw. Dean’s expression was stone-faced. Seth’s eyes were wide open, but when Dean looked into them for any signs, he found intrigue there, not fear. Was this guy for fuckin’ real?

 

He punched Seth in the shoulder, not using the full force and power in the strike. Seth’s back hit the wall and he looked at Dean expectantly. Seth could tell Dean was holding back. “More”, he mouthed silently, almost pleading. Dean arched an eyebrow in disbelief, and pulled his fist back to launch a harder blow into his other shoulder. This time Seth gasped, a little whimper escaping his lips. Was _that_ what he heard? There’s no way…

 

Dean struck another blow, full force, into Seth’s side, his fingers starting to ache from the impact against tough muscle. Seth was starting to pant, feeling the rush of endorphins and adrenaline throughout his body. He looked into Dean’s eyes, challenging, and jutted out his jaw. This time with no hesitation, Dean’s fist collided with Seth’s face. Seth moaned _loud_ , staggering forward and loosely wrapping his arms around Dean. He rutted against Dean shamelessly, his already half-hard cock pressing up against Dean’s leg. _Holy shit, he_ does _get off to this._ Dean had his suspicions for a while now, but seeing it being displayed so unapologetically was… really fucking hot. He felt a spark of arousal go straight to his groin.

 

Dean grinned against Seth’s neck, grabbed him by the shoulders, and slammed him _hard_ against the brick wall. Seth let out a strangled yelp in surprise. Dean kissed him roughly, tasting the familiar metal tang of blood on his tongue as he shoved it into Seth’s mouth. Seth attempted to move his arms, but Dean gripped his wrists and slammed them against the wall. Seth immediately complied, letting Dean’s strength overpower him. He could feel his knuckles and forearms scrape against the brick, already noticing a sharp, burning pain in his fingers and arms.

 

Seth bucked his hips against Dean’s, their fully hardened lengths pressing against each other. He moaned again, muffled by Dean’s mouth on his. Dean was overcome, he wanted to hear Seth mewl his name, wanted to mark him everywhere. He wanted to give Seth every ounce of pain he’s ever asked for and then some. His mouth moved down to the tough muscle between his neck and shoulder and bit down _hard_ , grinning when he felt Seth thrash beneath him, crying out in pain and pleasure and grinding his hips against Dean’s desperately.

 

“Dean please,” the words spilled from Seth’s mouth, his parted lips stained red and swollen.

 

Dean pulled away from Seth’s shoulder, his hand sliding down to unbutton Seth’s pants and tug that and his boxers just below his hips. Seth’s achingly hard cock sprung from his boxers, twitching against his toned stomach. Dean spat into the palm of his hand, the gesture so incredibly dirty, and still Seth felt a jolt of excitement. Dean grabbed Seth’s hand, taking a moment to observe the scrapes along his knuckles, raw and red and glistening, before pressing his lips against the small wounds. He flicked his tongue out, placing it flat against the raw flesh, while his other hand wrapped around Seth’s twitching cock.

 

Seth gasped, bucking his hips forward to fuck into Dean’s closed fist. Seth’s mouth fell open, his eyes shutting tight at the heightened sensation. He was already going to cum soon, the stimulation proving to be almost too much for his body to process. Every twist of Dean’s tight, slick hand and the dull sharp pain of his mouth sucking on his injured knuckles brought him ever closer. He cried out and with one final stroke he painted Dean’s fist with hot strings of cum.

 

Dean placed his clean hand on Seth’s shoulder, pressuring him onto his knees. He extended his arm and pressed his fist against Seth’s lips. Seth opened his mouth to lick Dean’s fist clean, his breath catching in his throat when Dean unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his cock free. His fingers tangled in his hair, tugging tightly as he pressed the head of his cock against Seth’s lips. Seth looked up at Dean, brown eyes full of awe staring into mischievous blues, and he knew he was done for, a helpless slave to the animal that was Dean Ambrose.

  
  
  
  
  



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